


Mock Turtle

by jasbo



Series: Piffle, Tinkerty-Tonk, and a Rusty Plane [2]
Category: Lord Peter Wimsey - Dorothy L. Sayers, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasbo/pseuds/jasbo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Gaslightgallows!! You who have delighted me as a reader and a friend, I wish you the very best day, year, and life in the world. </p><p>You liked the Lord Peter fic so much, I decided to go there again. I hope you enjoy this too!</p></blockquote>





	Mock Turtle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/gifts).



Phryne sipped her cocktail and scanned the room, wondering how long it would be before she could leave. She would say this for literary parties: the alcohol was excellent.

Smiling insincerely, she shook her head at the offered canapé tray. The food was execrable.

Her roving eye rested on a dark-haired woman in the corner, her hand wrapped tightly around a tumbler of something, her eyes surveying the throng in much the same manner Phryne had been doing. She was not pretty, but the intense intelligence of her gaze made her positively magnetic. Phryne glanced about again and noticed something she had not seen before: a number of people were quite clearly aware of this woman, though none spoke to her.

Looking back at the woman, Phryne saw that her attention had settled. Tracing the target of her scrutiny, Phryne saw a man was holding court in a large group, alternately charming and challenging his audience.

Phryne quirked an eyebrow. She had met this specimen earlier. Philip…something. A poet, she thought. He was quite clearly impressed with himself, though Phryne had found little reason for his confidence.

 _Egotistical puppy_ , she thought, dismissing him and looking back at the woman, who was looking straight at Phryne with an unwelcoming sort of stare.

Depositing her empty glass on a handy table, Phryne moved across the room, plucking another drink from a passing waiter on her way.

“I don’t believe we have been introduced. Phryne Fisher,” she said, offering a glittering smile and a hand to the woman.

The woman considered her for a moment before extending her own hand. “Harriet Vane,” she replied gravely as they shook.

A small thrill went through Phryne. “How perfectly marvelous! I absolutely devoured your last book. Such an intricate plot—I was quite impressed.” _Too many railway timetables, to be honest, but the command of detail was staggering,_ she thought.

A small smirk quivered at the corner of Miss Vane’s mouth. “Too dependent on railway timetables to unravel the mystery. It tended to bog down. If I had had one more opportunity to edit it, I might have simplified. I am afraid I am responsible for a very small spike in paracetamol sales.”

Phryne laughed delightedly. “I confess, that part was a bit dense to get through, but I do repeat that I am captivated by your work.”

“And I by yours,” Miss Vane responded.

Taken aback, Phryne sipped her drink before responding. “Do you take the Australian newspapers, then, Miss Vane?”

Nodding at the man she had been watching previously, Miss Vane said, “No, but Philip does. He has a cousin in Melbourne who follows your career closely.” Leaning in confidentially, she murmured, “She sends clippings.”

“You poor thing, subjected to that. I’m sorry your husband’s cousin is so tiresome. I assure you those reports are full of half-truths and outright lies.”

Miss Vane stiffened. “Philip is not—he is…we are not married,” she finished in a rush.

Phryne briefly laid a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Miss Vane, if you know anything about me, you probably know that I am not…conventional when it comes to the relations between men and women.”

Dark eyes twinkled at that. “Ah, but you said the papers were full of half-truths and lies. Therefore, I cannot rely on those reports.”

 _Clever_ , Phryne thought. _As clever in person as on the page._ “Well, Miss Vane, _those_ reports are probably _less_ salacious than the truth.” Lifting one shoulder she smiled seraphically.

Miss Vane laughed outright at that. “Please, do call me Harriet.” Phryne was surprised and somewhat touched. This was clearly a woman with walls and defenses.

“Of course. And please call me Phryne.”

“On a first-name basis with the aristocracy. Quite a coup for a country doctor’s daughter,” Harriet said, sipping her drink.

Phryne waved a hand. “A quirk of fate.”

Suddenly, Harriet stiffened and seemed to sink back into herself, eyes focused intently once more. Phryne turned to see what had caused her new friend to react so alarmingly and found herself almost nose to nose with the poet, Philip. Whatever his name was.

“Miss Fisher! We meet again!” He stood a little too close, his smile was a bit too broad as he shook her hand for the second time this evening. He even squeezed. Phryne felt her own smile fading to the barest expression of politeness.

“Mr…I apologize. I have met so many people this evening.”

The poet’s face fell. “Boyes, Miss Fisher. Philip Boyes.”

“Ah. Yes, nice to see you again. Harriet, it has been delightful talking to you, but I’m afraid I must be off.”

Harriet’s wooden expression softened a bit and they shook hands warmly. “Yes, Phryne. I enjoyed our conversation as well.”

Phryne didn’t miss the resettling of the mask around Harriet as she turned to Mr. Boyes. “Are you ready to go Philip?” As she walked away, she could hear the man begin to interrogate her, obviously peeved that someone had deemed Harriet more interesting than himself.

 _That is going to end badly_ , Phryne thought as she picked up her wrap and left the party.

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Gaslightgallows!! You who have delighted me as a reader and a friend, I wish you the very best day, year, and life in the world. 
> 
> You liked the Lord Peter fic so much, I decided to go there again. I hope you enjoy this too!


End file.
